


Day 18

by problematiquefave



Series: Kinktober 2018 [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Consensual Infidelity, Cuckolding, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Kinktober, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiquefave/pseuds/problematiquefave
Summary: Being closer to fifty than forty, it's difficult for Chris to keep up with the libido of a twenty year old werewolf. That's when Peter decides to intervene in his relationship with Isaac.





	Day 18

It’s late at night. Chris is used to lying in bed awake – or giving up on sleep entirely and going to his study for a glass of bourbon. Yet he doesn’t because there’s a warm and comforting weight behind him, one that is trying and failing to pretend he’s asleep as well. He stays for Isaac, for the young wolf in his bed and his heart, but he freezes when said wolf slings an arm around him and presses his lips to his ear.

He can feel the hard line of Isaac’s cock though the flimsy barrier of his pajamas. He knows what he means when he whispers, “still awake, huh?” What he _wants_.

“Not tonight,” Chris replies. He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t even twitch. He doesn’t acknowledge the way Isaac pulls back slightly, like a wilting flower.

He wishes he could roll over and push the young wolf into the bed, to have his way with him and shower him with everything he wants. But Chris is not a young man anymore. One time a night is more than enough for his body. He just can’t keep up with a twenty year old werewolf, as much as he wishes. And Isaac knows that but Chris also knows the disappointment every time he’s turned down, the rejection he feels when his lover can’t live up to his needs.

It’s a goddamn shame.

 

 

And it’s a shame that other’s notice. Or more specifically, _Peter Hale_ notices.

He’s sitting in his office, flipping through paperwork for his perfectly legal arms dealing business, when his phone begins to ring. The caller ID proclaims it’s a private number. While more than likely a scam, Chris has his fingers in too many things to just ignore calls. He sighs and picks it up, answering with a, “Hello.”

“I hear you’re having troubles performing.”

Chris doesn’t even dignify Peter. He hangs up the phone and sets it back on his desk. Rubbing his temples, his flips to the next page, only to be distracted as the phone rings _again_. It’s a private number, again. Pursing his lips, he picks it up.

“What do you want?”

He hears Peter’s laugh from the other end of the phone and nearly hangs up again. But Peter starts speaking before he can click the button. “To talk about your problem,” he says. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of at your age but it does disappoint a certain young man.”

Chris closes his eyes. He resists the urge to sigh again. This is not a conversation he wants to be having with anyone, let alone Peter, and he’s not even sure why it’s happening, why he knows any of the details of his sex life with Isaac. But he doesn’t. He simply asks, “why is this any of your business?”

“I’m meddlesome,” he replies, “and I overheard a rather sad conversation between your boy and Scott. It was just heartbreaking. I’ve always rooted for you two, y’know.”

“Do you just like hearing the sound of your own voice?”

Peter snorts. It crackles through the connection. “Like I said Chris, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. But if you want your relationship to last, I think you’re going to have to find a solution. Have you heard of Viagra? I hear—”

 _Call ended_ , flashes across the screen. Chris doesn’t give him a chance to say what he’s heard and he doesn’t pick up when Peter calls for a third time.

 

 

He should’ve realized, however, that this wouldn’t be the end of it. It’s not in taunting conversation’s over the phone that this problem doesn’t go away. It persists in the bedroom he shares with Isaac and it persists at the pack meetings Scott insists upon. The ones that are really just excuses for movie nights, board games, and sodium-loaded takeout.

Chris wouldn’t go if it weren’t for the puppy dog eyes Isaac gives him. He is part of the pack, he supposes, but this never feels like his place. He’s more welcome than Peter though who purposefully ignores the glares and snipes he receives – most of which originate from Stiles – and pretends like he belongs, like the majority of the people there don’t just barely tolerate him let alone enjoy his presence.

He’s usually harmless at these meetings but something changes following their phone conversation. It doesn’t involve any of the others – just him and Isaac. And more so, it’s _about_ Isaac. Peter draws close to the young wolf, helping and chatting and putting his hands on what he knows isn’t his. He makes sure Chris sees the way he is with Isaac and the way Isaac doesn’t rebuff him. Chris knows, logically, that Isaac doesn’t even notice that something has changed – knows that he should warn the young wolf. Yet he doesn’t, and it comes to a head when a pack meeting turns into a succubus hunt at one of Beacon Hill’s most popular night clubs.

The hunt has been going on for multiple nights, the succubus continuing to elude the McCall pack at every turn. Chris doesn’t have much hope for the night, especially as he watches the pack one-by-one get lost in the music and their drinks. The hunt has turned into a party. He sits back with a sigh and scans the crowd, resigning himself to being the last one left on duty. It’s his job. It should be expected.

Yet, even he can’t resist distraction when his blue eyes land on Peter and Isaac on the dance floor. Their bodies are flush together, ‘dancing’ to the pounding music that’s starting to give him a migraine. He sets his drink down and stands with all the dignity he can muster. The partiers get out of his way as he stalks towards them, the crowd parting before him out of fear or instinct.

Peter smirks from over Isaac’s shoulder. He holds out a hand to Chris, beckoning him in. He should be insulted. He should sock the bastard for his attempts. But he doesn’t; he joins them, plastering himself to Isaac’s back, trapping the young wolf between them. Isaac cranes his head back, his eyes meeting Chris’ with a lazy grin of his own.

God, he’s beautiful.

God, does Chris love him.

God, does he not want to lose him.

They dance. Chris doesn’t keep track of the time, only knowing that one song melds into another. Peter is the first to step away, saying he’s going to get another drink. Isaac turns to face him, wrapping his arms around the hunter’s waist. They dance like that, bodies so close it feels like they’re connected, but eventually Isaac pulls away to go to the bathroom. Left alone on the dance floor, he heads to the bar. Peter is nowhere in sight and Chris couldn’t care less.

He orders a scotch on the rocks and sits on one of the stools. He scans the row of people at the bar but doesn’t see Peter among them. He wonders, briefly, if he’s fallen prey to the succubus. As he takes a sip of his drink, he decides he wouldn’t be too bothered if that were the case. Unfortunately, he suspects that Peter is too wily for such and has found something else to entertain himself with other than Chris and Isaac.

By the time he finishes his drink, Isaac still hasn’t appeared. He leaves the glass on the bar and gets up, wandering into the crowd to search for the young wolf. He isn’t with any of his friends. Stiles is making a fool of himself on the dance floor and Scott is having a heated discussion with Lydia and Malia. He heads towards the bathroom because it’s the last place to check, even if it shouldn’t have taken this long.

Yet Isaac is there – so is Peter, who has him pinned against the wall, their lips pressed together in a devouring kiss. Chris freezes, standing in the doorway with a tight expression. Peter cracks open an eye, catching his gaze, but he doesn’t stop and definitely doesn’t apologize. Turning away, the hunter heads back to the bar and orders himself another scotch.

He’s on his third by the time Peter sits down beside him. He glances at Chris’ glass and orders new ones for both of them.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” Chris replies, downing the rest of his drink.

“Well, I’d recommend slowing down then,” Peter says. “The night’s not over.”

Chris turns to look at him, blue eyes narrowed in a glare, expression pinched. He looks upset and he is. There’s not much to be happy about when you stumble across what he did. The worst part of it is that’s he not even angry, not with Isaac at least. He _knows_ Peter, knows his honeyed tongue and smooth manipulations. Isaac never stood a chance. He’s a cynic yet he only ever wants approval and appreciation from those around him. He sought it in Derek, in Scott, in Allison, and then in him. Maybe it’s not really a good excuse but it’s the one he has. He refuses to be angry with the young wolf.

Peter is another story. One Chris does not want to deal with right now. However, he finds himself asking, “What are you going on about?”

He leans in, too close, too there. Chris straightens his shoulders, feeling the wolf’s breath on his skin. “I mean the three of us are going to go back to your apartment and I’m going to fuck him while you sit there and watch.” Their eyes meet. Peter is dead serious. “Maybe if you’re good, Isaac will take pity on you.”

He should be furious. His anger should double, rearing back like a wounded animal. He should pull the gun from his holster and shove it into Peter’s gut. He should explain all the horrible, nightmarish things he’s done to werewolves over the years. Yet his only reaction is blood rushing to his cock. _Fuck_. He hates how good that sounds and he hates how Peter’s lips curl upwards as he smells his arousal.

“What does Isaac think?” he asks, his last attempt at a got-you. At putting a stop to something he shouldn’t want but does.

“What do you think?” Peter replies.

He’s done for.

 

 

Isaac is by the door, waiting for them to finish their drinks and head out. He smiles bashfully at Chris and ducks his head when the hunter swings an arm around his shoulders. Peter trails behind them as they head towards his SUV, getting into the backseat as Chris takes the wheel and Isaac calls shotgun. The hunter realizes they hadn’t said anything to their friends before leaving but he finds he doesn’t have a problem with that. He has no desire to explain why he’s leaving with Isaac _and_ Peter.

Along the drive, Isaac slides his hand into Chris’ lap. Reassurance, he supposes, that Isaac loves him. That this is just sex and Peter, who is questionably quiet in the backseat, means nothing to their relationship. He’s not sure he believes that – this isn’t going to make their problems go away – but _hell_. Chris just wants to be irresponsible for one night.

They arrive at the apartment; Chris kills the engine and is the last one to exit the car. Isaac and Peter are already ahead of him, heads bowed in a conversation he can’t hear. There’s a confusing feeling in his gut, nervous, nauseated, and excited. He lets them go ahead, knowing that Isaac has a key. He loses sight of them and they don’t wait for him at the elevators. When he finally gets inside his own apartment, there’s clothes on the floor and noises from the bedroom.

Isaac is naked, splayed out on their bed with Peter above him. The older wolf is still wearing boxers but that won’t be for long. He cranes his head to meet Chris’ eyes, lips curling with the same grin from the club. He nods to the chair in the corner. “Sit. Enjoy the show.”

Chris grits his teeth. His pride tells him to lash out, to not sit back and take Peter’s orders. But he does, kicking some laundry aside and sitting in the chair. They’re angled in a way to give him a good view from over here. To give him a good view as Peter kisses his _boyfriend_ , as he worships – sucking, licking, and nibbling – on the column of his neck.

He watches as Peter goes lower, as he tweaks and sucks at Isaac’s sensitive nipples. He tugs on them until they’re puffy and red. He licks a long line down Isaac’s chest and abdomen, stopping just before the young wolf’s cock. He grins, wrapping around his hard around the length and giving a couple of tugs before sitting back. He pulls down his underwear, revealing his own cock.

Chris swallows. It’s _big_. Long and thick, he can just imagine Isaac split open on that, taking it with the smalls gasps and whines he loves to make. He knows he’s going to see it eventually but he doesn’t dictate the pace or the turn of events at all. He just sits back and watches as another man fucks his boyfriend. It should be humiliating, infuriating, and worse. It’s some of that but it’s _hot_ too and those feelings just add to it.

Shifting forward on the bed, Peter draws himself up over Isaac’s chest. Isaac lifts up on his elbows, his lips inches from the head of the older wolf’s cock. Images flash through Chris mind that has him clenching his fists; he’s completely unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before, from Peter smearing his precrum across Isaac’s lips to his cock slowly disappearing into the boy’s mouth. He knows what that’s like. Isaac is _amazing_ at giving head. He’s always mindful of his teeth and the lengths he can take… He’s something else, a thought Chris reminded of Peter slides all the way in, down his throat until there’s a barely noticeable bulge in his throat.

Chris palms his cock through his jeans. Peter glances over at him, grinning like the cat that got the cream. He shakes his head, not needing to put to words the order. _Don’t touch yourself_. The hunter sticks his hands under his legs in a desperate attempt to follow those orders.

Peter lazily fucks Isaac’s throat for what could be seconds or minutes or hours. Chris is lost in the show, unable to tell the time. Eventually he pulls back. His cock is slick with spit and Isaac’s chin glistens in the dim light. He lays back as Peter retrieves something from under the pillow. _Lube_ but no condom. That does funny things to the feelings the hunter is wrestling with but he doesn’t speak them. It’s not his place.

The prep isn’t as exciting but it doesn’t lose his attention either. Peter is thorough and, based on the way Isaac arches and squirms, pays careful attention the young wolf’s prostate. When he’s taking four fingers with ease, Peter pulls back. He lines his cock up against Isaac’s hole, pressing in inch by inch. His expression contorts when Peter is bottoms out.

It’s only a few seconds before he starts moving again. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into the boy relentlessly. Isaac takes it with ease – with _pleasure_. The healing factor of wolves cannot be spoken of highly enough because Chris knows, if he were in Isaac’s place, he’d feel that for weeks. He’s still probably going to be sore tomorrow, a feat Chris has never accomplished.

The sounds of their sex fills the air. The slapping of flesh, littles moans, groans, and whines. Hard breathing, rustling sheets. At one point, the headboard starts banging against the wall. Hopefully it won’t leave a mark and he won’t get a noise complaint. That’s embarrassing enough when you’re approaching fifty; it’s more so when the sex isn’t even your own.

He sees when Isaac draws close to his orgasm. His breaths start to hitch and his nails turn to claws, digging into Peter’s skin. He usually has to be mindful of those when it’s the two of them but both of their eyes are glowing. At least they haven’t sprouted fur yet.

Isaac comes with a shout and Peter follows not far behind him, snarling into the crook of the boy’s neck. They collapse into a panting, heaving, sweaty tangle of limbs. Glowing blue eyes meet his; Peter is grinning, satisfaction etched into his features. He leans his chin on Isaac’s shoulder but he doesn’t say anything.

Eventually, when Isaac’s breath has evened out, he whispers something in the boy’s ear. Chris doesn’t hear what it is. He imagines it’s a taunt or insult at his expense but, a moment later, Isaac extracts himself from the bed and stumbles over to him, dropping to his knees in front of Chris. The hunter straightens up as he unzips and pulls down his pants, freeing his achingly hard cock. There’s no hesitation or teasing. Isaac goes for it, sloppy and slobbery and _so fucking good_. It’s no time at all before he comes down Isaac’s throat and collapses back, the energy of the day emptying out of him.

He barely has the energy to acknowledge Peter when he asks, “that give your libido a boost?”

He does manage though, giving him a good old fashioned flipping off.

**Author's Note:**

> This one got away from me so comments are appreciated. You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://problematiquefics.tumblr.com/).


End file.
